


Voice of Sacrifice

by Duchess_Of_Dumpsters



Series: Multi-Wings AU [8]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Backstory, M/M, Multi Wings AU, My pen is a little bloody, My pen is also covered in cotton candy, Permanent Death AU, Pixl makes poor life decisions asmr, Zombieism to the rescue, angst then fluff, eh this is fine, wtf where did the fluff come from????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23923504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duchess_Of_Dumpsters/pseuds/Duchess_Of_Dumpsters
Summary: Taking a step back in time it's here, in the Multi Wings universe, we see how Pixl and Zloy got to join the hermits. It's a bumpy ride so strap in and have fun!
Relationships: Pixl/Zloy, Zloy/Pixl
Series: Multi-Wings AU [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1565188
Comments: 41
Kudos: 65





	Voice of Sacrifice

He couldn’t bear this.

It couldn’t end this way.

Too much had been expected, too much had been demanded. It was more than his beloved could have ever handled, and yet he’d stood alone for so long.

He’d stood against the odds.

Until they finally won out.

It couldn’t end this way.

He wouldn’t allow it.

Pixl couldn’t believe he was about to go through with this, but what choice did he have? Everything that mattered was gone, in the blink of an eye, it was over. His world had died in his arms, his life had crumbled around him and everyone who’d been loyal before, walked away with a usurper. So as Pixl trudged along the swampy lands, carrying a heavy burden and a heavier heart, he knew. He knew he had no other choice.

With conviction in his heart he kept moving, this last wavering thread his only hope and he didn’t dare consider that it could fail. He refused to consider he might be turned away, or that what he requested might be impossible… or impossible to repay. He didn’t care, he had to try. If nothing else… that’s what kept him going.

The little cottage on stilts came into view, it had a small staircase leading down to a small dock, a single boat moored there. He stepped from the land onto that janky wooden platform. His wings loose at his back as he climbed the steps, the dull brown feathers muted like his soul but the wings ready to snap into action if the weathered planks gave way.

Standing at the doorway was a woman in a dark dress with a black hat, a black cat sat in the window bathing itself. The woman’s emerald eyes were sharp and she watched Pixl knowingly.

“Well, if it isn’t the late leader’s concubine.” She said with a distasteful drawl.

“Please, Alusru, I need your help.” Pixl pleaded.

“Oh I know you do, the question is, how much are you willing to give up in return? Just how much does this lost life mean to you?”

“Anything…. Everything. Please, I’m begging you, please.” Pixl insisted, holding tight to the person-sized bundle in his arms.

She laughed, wickedly, knowingly, but stepped back and motioned for him to follow her so he did. He stepped inside the swamp witch's cottage, only glancing the small but well-used space. She pulled away the rug in the middle of the room, underneath a ring of arcane markings were meticulously burned into the wood floor. At her beckon, he laid the bundled form there then rested his hand over where he knew his late lover’s hand to be. He watched silently as Alusru looked through her barrels and chests, dumping things into the bubbling cauldron. 

“To grant him life and restore his mind is a costly thing, you know.” She said offhandedly.

“I’ll pay any price.” Pixl swore, he wasn’t willing to give up now.

“Any?”

“Did I stutter?” Pixl snapped, the sudden burst of frustration feeling sickening and unnatural. Born of grief, of desperation, he was sure.

“Very well.” Alusru chuckled, an edge to her tone.

\--Twelve hours previously--

Boredom, life was endless border and hassle. Settle this or decide that, but nothing interesting, nothing fun. Days dragged by in endless torment as he sat on this throne he never wanted. All because of the dozen golden marks on his wings, marks in the shape of eyes, supposedly a reminder to his people that he was always watching.

_ His people. _ Hardly. 

He knew he was nothing more than a necessity in their eyes, something to be tolerated and placated so that their world remained safe. He was a tool, not a person, a means to an end, and nothing more. There was no respect, just fake smiles, false politeness. Everyone had an angle, everyone had an ulterior motive…

Everyone but Pixl.

He glanced to his side, where the man stood, straight-backed and level shoulders, well dressed and looking every part the council advisor. They’d known the people would have found their relationship scandalous because of the stupid, long-standing traditions. They’d known it was a risk and as far as Zloy was concerned, it’d been worth it. Zloy was sick of the sneaking around, of the pretending, of the unappreciated sacrifices. He was tired of lying and saying the rumors about them weren’t true.

Glancing back at the rest of the room, at the people milling about at this waste of time of a ‘party’ he was fairly certain no one believed him anymore. He was certain they’d made up their minds about the truth. It would explain the more open hostility he saw in the eyes of a few and he got the nagging feeling that he wasn’t going to uphold this duty much longer. What he wouldn’t have given… to just live a peaceful, relaxed life at Pixl’s side.

It was a fool’s dream, it would never come to pass. He knew this for certain as his eyes settled on those of a newcomer. He knew as he met the bruit of a man’s gaze, with glowing gold streaks making the odd color practically orange… He knew his time was running out. Zloy glanced to pixl, motioning for him to lean down.

“I love you, Pixl, never forget that.” Zloy said quietly, his tone direct and firm, leaving no room for argument even as he turned back to meet the other leader’s eyes. Zloy stood, meeting the armored and cloaked man at the foot of the dais. The room had gone entirely silent, all around them, all eyes fell to the brewing storm.

“Zloy…” Pixl muttered in distress behind him, his tone low, apprehensive.

“You know why I’m here.” The other leader said, his tone flat.

“Oh I do? Well your reputation  _ must _ proceed you then. Goodness where are my manners, I don’t recall your name.” Zloy shot back in a tone heavy with venom. He could tell this was a fight he wasn’t going to win, that didn’t mean he’d be going down without a fight.

The other glared him down and in an instant, a sword was drawn. Zloy drew his own, bringing it up to bare. He locked eyes with his soon to be replacement, unwavering. The other leader moved first and Zloy was fast to defend, then defend again. He lunged forward with a faint and then jabbed at the other’s side but his blade glinted off the armor the other leader was wearing. It was enough to off-balanced Zloy when the blade didn’t bite into anything and while he tried to bring the blade around in time he wasn’t fast enough, earning him a slash across his chest.

“Zloy!” Pixl cried as Zloy stumbled back, whipping his blade around to parry the next strike. Locked hilt to hilt it quickly became a struggle of strength and while Zloy wasn’t weak he didn’t have a chance against this beast of a man. All too soon his guard was broken and he felt the searing pain as the other’s blade bit in, he could feel it scrapping between ribs, felt as his breath was stolen away as it dug through a lung.

He tried, one last swing at his usurper but his blade was caught in a gauntletted hand and pitched haphazardly away. The other Leader twisted his own blade Zloy gritted his teeth and snarled but he refused to cry out in pain. He wouldn’t give anyone in the room that satisfaction, but more importantly, he wouldn’t leave Pixl with something that haunting.

The blade was wrenched again and suddenly Zloy was pinned to the floor, the world was spinning from the pain, he could feel blood bubbling over his own lips. Reality seemed to swim, dark patches rippling in his vision but he could see Pixl now, he could see people holding his lover back. Somewhere… he could hear screaming, but it wasn’t his own, he was satisfied by that much, not quite able to register that it was Pixl’s voice. Zloy’s attention was shakily drawn back to his executioner as the blade was twisted and wrenched again, and then one of his wings was grabbed. The pain of a blade piercing the scales and webbing of his dragon wings was perhaps worse than that of being run through. He tried to yank his wing away but his strength was pouring out on the floor in a pool of glistening red. He was helpless as the glowing gold markings were stripped violently from his wings.

Still, even then, he refused to scream. It wasn’t much, but it was the greatest defiance he could offer. After all that had happened, after all he’d been forced to suffer through for these heedless citizens. This would be how his life ended. He grasped desperately to thoughts of Pixl, to the rare times they’d had alone, to those tender, private moments. All his life he’d drowned out his misery and this moment was no different. If darkness wouldn’t take him, then he’d ignore the pain on his own, he was still aware, even as his consciousness teasingly wavered, of his wings being mutilated. He was aware of when it stopped, of when he was picked up and thrown. There was nothing he could do to break his own fall, his wings awash with agony.

Then….

Then came a gentle touch he didn’t think he’d survive long enough to feel again. His vision wouldn’t focus, it shimmered and wavered and was filled with dark patches, but he recognized the vague familiarity of Pixl. He could tell his lover had pulled him close. He could hear a trembling voice but couldn’t make out the words, he could feel tears striking his face but didn’t have the strength left to reach up and brush them away.

Oh how he longed to just caress Pixl’s face just one more time. He was right there, and yet, he might as well have been leagues away. He could feel the way Pixl shook as he sobbed, pulling Zloy all the closer, resting their foreheads together. With a last spark of defiance, with a last push of will, Zloy gathered the remaining shreds of his strength.

“Pixl… please don’t…”  _ cry _ “I…”  _ just _ “want… you…”  _ to smile again. _ “I’m… sorry…”  _ our lives were like this _ “you deserved…”  _ better _ . “I…. lo-”  _ ve you. _

He tried with everything he had to get his words across, he wanted to say so much more but… but then everything went dark.

Dark.

Silent.

Still.

Painless.

There was nothing.

_ Absolutely nothing. _

He had no thoughts.

No sense of presence.

Not of him.

Not of the great tree.

_ Nothing _ .

Until…

Until that changed.

Zloy woke with a sharp gasp and a cough, the world flooded in all at once but it seemed so strangely numb and muted. It was strange, after so many years with his awakened powers, to have them stripped away, the world felt so dead around him. It wasn’t though, he realized. No.  _ He was. _

He blinked his eyes open and instantly the surroundings were unfamiliar, the ceiling above was wood and close. His body felt sluggish but he forced it to move, slowly sitting up and taking in the small room, a cottage. There was a cauldron, chests, workspace, and barrels along the back wall, a couple of seats along with a table against another. A chest, and a bed taking up the space along the remaining wall. There was a cat sitting atop a bookshelf looking out the window, next to that was the only door. Sitting in those seats, however, was an unfamiliar woman, a witch… and Pixl.

He stared at Pixl for a long moment, something felt…  _ wrong _ . Without his powers though, he had no way to check, no way to just reach out and caress the very essence of the one person he loved most. Pixl was sitting still, silent as a grave and staring off at nothing. His eyes had the strangest dull quality to them. There were tear stains on his face but they were long dry. Silently Zloy looked to the witch, she watched him with a sort of silent amusement, the room was dead quiet. He could hear the lazy lapping of water outside, the sound of the cat’s tongue through its own fur, the sounds of Pixl, and the witch breathing.

Finally, he looked to himself, his bloodstained, muddied clothes, the odd, green tinge to his skin, the faded state of his once blindingly vibrant scales. His wings were filled with holes but they didn’t hurt, didn’t bleed. He could breathe if he wanted, but he realized it wasn’t necessary. Zloy looked back to the witch slowly.

“What… did you do?” His question was met only with a sly smile at first, but she spoke just before he could press the question again.

“As I was asked, I brought you back from the dead. Welcome back to the land of the living, failed king.” Her voice was far too smooth, far too amused for his liking.

“You’ve made me into a zombie, most don’t consider that  _ back _ from the dead.” He said firmly, uncertain exactly how to feel about his new state of being. More concerning though, was Pixl’s continued silence.

“It’s the best I could do, you aren’t an average zombie at least, you have your wits about you and won’t burn up in the sun. It’s as close to a natural life as you’re going to get.” She shot back firmly, smugly.

“Who are you?” He demanded, edging closer to Pixl… Pixl who had to be in shock for as silent and still as he was. Gently Zloy rested a hand on Pixl’s arm.

“My name is Alusru, Witch of the Forsaken Swamp, at your service.” She answered smoothly. As she said that, something settled in.

“You… don’t offer your services out of the kindness of your heart, do you.”

“Of course not, everything has a price.” Alusru cackled.

“And what… was that price?” He asked slowly.

“Oh, you know, his voice  _ and something more. _ ” She snickered, oh so amused with herself.

“Tell me what-” He started to demand but she cut him off, her expression going controlled and cold.

“No refunds or returns, all transactions are final. Now, you’re awake, take your halfwit and leave.” She said firmly, standing and motioning for them to leave.

Zloy scowled at her but caught Pixl’s hand in his and headed for the door. The sunlight was warm on his face but he felt almost unnerved without his ability to sense the world around him. He found the way back down to the ground easily enough and made as much of a beeline for the trees as he could, he just wanted out of that witch’s sight as soon as possible. Once they’d made a fair enough distance he turned to face Pixl, searching his face. Pixl seemed a bit more alert, offering Zloy a smile even, but it didn’t reach his eyes. There was just… something missing and with his abilities gone Zloy had no idea how to figure out what it was.

“Are you okay? What did she do to you?” Zloy asked, Pixl nodding to the first question but only shrugging to the second. He knew, Zloy could tell… he just didn’t have the voice to answer. Pixl seemed to sense his unease and gave Zloy’s hand a gentle squeeze. Something was still off, Pixl seemed far from whole… but at least he was here, they both were.

Zloy pulled Pixl into a tight hug, just holding him with no fear of being seen or worry of being found out. He might have been disconnected from the world around him in an unsettling way… but at least he was alive. Alive… maybe not in the most conventional sense but, he was still himself, could still feel emotion, and think clearly. It was strange, he’d accepted his life was over but now here he was with a second chance. He just wished he knew exactly how much Pixl had sacrificed, there was no reason to let it be in vain.

Releasing Pixl though, looking him in the eyes. It was hard to be grateful when drowning in worry. Looking into those eyes, so dull and void of life, no expression reaching them they just seemed so… empty. It set Zloy on edge but there was really nothing to be done, nothing he could do, especially with so little information. With a sigh, Zloy took Pixl’s hand in his and set off again. It was a silent walk and he so deeply missed Pixl’s voice.

As the sun started to set they chose a place to make camp, really Zloy chose it. Pixl helped him gather firewood but the silence in the air was stifling, however, when Zloy tried to break it… he was, of course, met with silence. He’d been given training on how to survive in the wild but had never actually been in the wilderness. It was just another, new experience and he felt he would have been excited… if he wasn’t so worried. If he wasn’t so uncertain and on edge, he might have been able to really let it settle in that he was free now. What was the worth in a second chance and freedom if… He glanced to Pixl… If the one person he loved most was little more than a shell.

Once there was a fire going Zloy settled down beside Pixl, wrapping a wing around him. Slowly he shifted his gaze from the fire to Pixl, who was staring off at nothing again, face entirely neutral. The firelight played across his features, handsome as they were it was odd seeing them so… thoughtless. Their lives had been stressful and Zloy was hardpressed to think of a time when he’d seen Pixl on his own, absorbed in concern or deep thought. Pixl had been a damned good advisor, able to offer much more tactful words when Zloy really just wanted to give people a piece of his mind. Now though, now there was none of that thoughtfulness, none of that caution, but nothing impulsive either. Just… nothing.

“Pixl?” Zloy asked softly, drawing his lover’s attention.

Pixl looked him in the eyes but nothing about his expression really changed, he just waited for Zloy to continue.

“I love you.” Zloy said softly and Pixl’s expression softened, a loving expression but again it didn’t reach his eyes. It felt… artificial, as if the reaction was drudged up from memories rather than anything from the heart.

Zloy let out a long, stressed sigh, he felt drained, tired, as if all the energy had been knocked out of him suddenly. Pixl seemed to notice, leaning in a little closer, Zloy caught on easily, reacting without much consideration. He closed the distance, meeting Pixl’s lips with his own. His heart sank, the action lacked feeling, lacked passion and heart that he so fondly remembered their kisses normally having. Now though, he wasn’t certain if it was because of whatever Pixl was missing… or if it was because Zloy himself was now undead.

As the kiss ended he met Pixl’s eyes again, it didn’t seem like he noticed anything amiss. A fond smile… with empty, dull eyes. Zloy began to wonder if castle life had really been so bad, after all. At least then Pixl’s sacrifices had been withstandable level, now though, this…. This was so much worse. Or perhaps it was just a deeper reflection of all he’d suffered through to remain at Zloy’s side. There was no way for the former leader to be sure. When they curled up together to sleep Zloy silently wished Pixl was himself again, silently wished that Alusru’s price had been something… less. Zloy could have perhaps gotten used to the silence if Pixl had still had his personality behind it, still been a shining beacon in the darkness, the anchor Zloy so desperately needed. Now, instead, it felt like they were both cast adrift.

\--

The next morning they set off again in silence. Zloy held Pixl’s hand, slightly concerned that if he didn’t they’d get separated and he’d lose Pixl permanently. They made their way in the opposite direction from where Zloy had once acted as king. He couldn’t say he’d miss being leader in that sense. His only concern was Pixl, of hoping he’d recover somehow, glancing back at his lover though, that seemed unlikely. He tried to shake that thought aside but it was quickly replaced by another and that one slowed his steps.

He was undead… Age meant nothing, life and death were relative... 

He… He’d watch Pixl grow old and die…

He’d… He’d be alone.

Zloy shook his head hard, as if that would cast the thoughts from his mind. He felt Pixl squeeze his hand and with a soft sigh Zloy set off again, leading the way. There was another community out that direction and he hoped no one there would recognize them. Again though, the fact of what he was now crossed his mind. He had to hope that zombies of the intelligent variety weren’t that uncommon. That whoever was in charge here had a bit more care about things then he had. A deep pang of guilt rolled through him as he remembered the few times he’d been asked what to do about an intelligent zombie.

He’d thought the guards to be drunk or perhaps lazy…

He’d never considered that… they might have still been people.

The thought that he’d potentially condemned good people to death… perhaps he deserved this fate. Silently he cursed his gold markings, it had never been something he’d had a choice in, never something he wanted, never something he was cut out to do. Even so, it was staggering to get used to the absence of an entire sense. As if he’d gone blind or deaf to part of reality itself, it was jarring, to say the least.

Zloy was finally drawn from his thoughts as they reached a road, he glanced it one way and then the other, spotting the faintest hints of tower roofs above the treeline to the east. He glanced back at Pixl, offering an assuring smile but his lover wasn’t paying any mind. Zloy gave Pixl’s hand a squeeze, drawing his gaze over, still, it lacked… everything it should have had. There was no wonder for places they had not seen, there was no love reflected back, there was no glimmer of hope… just an empty dull look. Zloy could feel his own expression fall, but Pixl didn’t react this time, almost like he wasn’t sure which reaction was proper. Pixl usually knew, he usually knew exactly what to say for every look that crossed Zloy’s face. The unending well of support and comfort that was one he loved most… had run dry.

“Let’s… keep moving.” He said gently and Pixl nodded, seeming to have no complaints. Zloy kept a good grip on Pixl’s hand and lead the way onto the road, staying off to one side. The silence weighed heavily on Zloy but he couldn’t bring himself to speak and break it. It felt pointless, he didn’t even know what to say, even just speaking his own thoughts felt wrong.

Perhaps it was just that they were out in the open and anyone could hear… or perhaps it was because Pixl was so unlike himself. So unlike himself that Zloy almost didn’t feel as comforted by Pixl’s presence as he should. When the city gates came into view ahead it wasn’t a moment too soon. The guard at the gate looked them over as they approached, watching Zloy wearily, however, when they came close he simply waved them inside. Zloy was surprised but in no mood to argue it. Somehow that made the nagging in the back of his mind about his previous, careless choices all the more intense. He tried not to think about it, tried not to think about intelligent zombies being more easily accepted anywhere but his own kingdom. All because of his own exasperation and ignorance.

He wasn’t sure how long his mind swam through that bleak struggle, despite his best efforts it kept pulling him in. Without Pixl to draw him back out he had no real chance of escape. It must have been hours though, the shadows were getting long and when he glanced at Pixl he looked quite tired. The bustle of the streets was quieting and Zloy realized he didn’t even know what they were doing here. He had just… picked a direction to go and hoped for the best. Now here they were in a city with night approaching.

Heading down another street he caught sight of a tavern and headed for it, while he felt fine he was sure Pixl must be starving. No complaints, no efforts given to find a way to communicate, Pixl had just trailed along all day like a wooden toy on a string. Zloy’s heart ached at that, sure Pixl could be agreeable, but this was an extreme. As they neared the building, it’s beams lacquered black standing out starkly against the white walls, Zloy noted the name. The Blackened Woods. It seemed fitting enough, he supposed.

Stepping through the door Zloy noticed the name carried it’s way inside, as all the wood inside was just as dark and shiny as the beams outside. The walls just as stark a white. The place wasn’t terribly busy, but the corner near the stairs held a table he would have chosen, however, there was already someone seated there. He only glanced over the man near his age, with blue eyes that were almost purple. The rest of those in the room were exceedingly less interesting but Zloy spotted an empty table against one wall and headed for it.

As the sat down Pixl pulled something from his pack and handed it over to Zloy, he blinked in surprise but then nodded as he recognized the golden pieces inside. Being King, there’d been no need for him to carry money on him, he was glad Pixl had been prepared with that foresight. Glancing up he saw Pixl smiling back at him… with his eyes closed. With that source of wrongness hidden Pixl almost looked normal, he almost looked like nothing was out of place and Zloy’s heart felt like it had been stabbed.

“Good thinking.” He offered softly, tucking the pouch out of sight. He hoped watching the room was enough of an excuse not to look directly at Pixl, though he wasn’t sure Pixl was there enough to care. He just couldn’t bear staring at someone who was and… wasn’t his Pixl. He did reach over and hold Pixl’s hand until food eventually reached them, after that Zloy was left just wearily looking around, anywhere but Pixl, trying hard not to think about what had happened. Trying not to think of what may or may not have been his fault, trying not to think of the blood on his hands.

Somehow, he’d managed to lose interest in the quiet room and let his thoughts overwhelm him yet again. After years of sitting unavoidably bored on a throne, it wasn’t surprising, but it would prove inconvenient he was sure. Especially when the man sitting at the corner table was suddenly standing beside his and Pixl’s and Zloy didn’t remember seeing the man move.

“Mind if I join you?” The stranger asked, his voice was calm, it had a soothing quality to it and when Zloy glanced up he realized why. Those nearly purple, blue eyes had a cascade of gold, quiet but there. He was wearing a cloak, carefully hiding his wings but Zloy could guess the gold markings that might existed there.

Zloy glanced to Pixl but Pixl… just stared back.

“I… suppose that would be fine.” Zloy said, slowly looking back. The man offered a friendly smile, a genuine one as best Zloy could tell but still, he took it with a grain of salt. He was so used to hidden motives everywhere that someone other than Pixl without some angle to work seemed unlikely.

“Splendid.” The stranger said, pulling up a chair.

Zloy watched him silently, waiting for that angle to show, he wasn’t willing to just volunteer information.

“My name is Xisuma, I’m not from here and frankly, you two don’t appear to be either.” He said, sounding casual, inviting.

“Maybe we are, maybe we aren’t, what business is it of yours?” Zloy asked curtly.

“Perhaps none, but… I cannot help but notice your companion’s situation and… I cannot ignore something if I can help.” Xisuma explained.

That left Zloy torn, somewhere between wanting to help Pixl and not trusting another leader, especially so soon after being usurped.

“Listen, I know trust can be in short supply, especially after whatever you two have been through.” He said, dropping his voice down low.

“How much can you tell has happened?” Zloy questioned, still uncertain what to think.

“I can tell you’re zombieism is recent, and that your companion is not only missing his voice… but his soul. There’s enough in that alone to guess what’s happened.” Xisuma explained and Zloy felt as if he’d been struck a killing blow all over again. Instantly, it all made sense and a horrible feeling twisted in the pit of Zloy’s stomach. He remembered well enough from his years of study what happened to those who give up their souls. He didn’t want that fate for Pixl… outliving him would be bad enough, but  _ that _ would be unacceptable.

“You’re just… offering to do this? What’s in this for you? What’s the catch?” Zloy questioned.

“None, I just want to help.” He insisted and looking him in the eyes, Zloy could tell he was telling the truth.

“Then we really can’t refuse… I don’t know how we’ll repay you.” Zloy said softly.

“Don’t worry about it, as long as we fix this and you two can live happily, I’ll rest easy knowing I made a difference.” Xisuma explained and it hit Zloy, it hit him hard as he realized that  _ this _ was what a true leader looked like. That the eyes he was looking into now were the eyes of a real leader, someone using their powers for good. Someone who…

Someone who cared.

That was where he’d failed.

He’d never cared.

He could make the excuse that his people hadn’t been worth caring about…

But was that really true?

Deep down he knew, he knew he didn’t deserve this kindness, he didn’t deserve Pixl’s sacrifice. Yet Pixl had deemed him worthy and Pixl deserved a better life, he really did. So maybe Zloy didn’t deserve where he was right in that moment, maybe he didn’t deserve a second chance or outside help. But he’d gotten it and he’d be damned if he took any of what life had given him for granted ever again. Pixl deserved a good life, he loved Pixl with every fiber of his being and he chose right then and there to do his absolute damnedest to see Pixl never suffered again.

Zloy was drawn back from his thoughts by the sound of Pixl setting his bowl aside. Despite the lack of emotion, he did look tired, at least physically so. He knew they  _ should _ have some time, limited as it may be. With a sigh he tried not to think too much about time constraints, really, there was hope now, that’s what mattered.

“I think some rest might be in order… We should start this fresh, first thing tomorrow.” Zloy offered and Xisuma nodded his agreement.

“That would probably be for the best. I can get you two rooms at the inn across the street as I’m already staying there.” Xisuma offered and Zloy nodded.

“Thank you, that would make things a little easier.” Zloy said and with that he left a few coins on the table and the three of them headed out together.

It was dark out now, but streetlamps cast a lazy glow across everything near them, bugs bounced off the lantern glass in a trivial attempt to reach the light. Something about that little moment in time, that little bug, it reminded Zloy of Pixl… Pixl who had defied death’s will. He glanced back at his lover, knowing they were all so small and inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. Small and yet they gave their goals every last ounce of effort and energy. Honestly, it was admirable and now he felt like it was his turn to be that bug… but unlike that little creature, he himself would find a way to the light that was Pixl’s soul.

\--

Zloy hadn’t slept the night before, but as they set off just after sunrise he wasn’t tired. Perhaps it was the Zombiesim, perhaps it was the nerves, whatever it was he was just glad to get moving. He explained to Xisuma what had happened while the leader and Pixl had eaten breakfast. It wasn’t too hard for Xisuma to plot together a plan and now here they were, trekking back through the swamp. Zloy would be lying to say he wasn’t on edge. He had to hope that this plan would work, but he got the feeling that if anything went wrong… it would be worse than a fate of death for him and Pixl both.

That wasn’t what he needed to focus on though, his focus needed to remain on the task at hand and not the what ifs of the future. With the clearing in sight ahead through the trees, Zloy forced his mind to settle on the plan. They reached a group of trees that hid them from view of the witch’s hut and stopped there.

“Alright Pixl… wait here love.” Zloy said gently, caressing Pixl’s cheek. Pixl nodded, saying nothing and not even looking worried. Zloy sighed at that, heart twisting painfully against the emptiness in Pixl’s eyes. At least now he understood why, he understood that only half of his beloved was present. He closed his eyes and steadied himself, it was time to retrieve the rest of Pixl.

“Ready?” Xisuma asked and Zloy nodded, setting off along the trees and keeping low, as planned. He worked his way along until he was even with the back corner of the stilted house. In a blindspot where the windows would not betray him, slowly, slowly he crept out into the open, out across the swamp. It was broad daylight but his dirty clothes and muddled colors blended surprisingly well with the patches of brush and murky water. It provided the perfect cover as he made his way to the hut, hovering by the stilts as he looked out across the swamp. He saw Xisuma, making his way towards the house, out in the open, pace casual. Zloy huddled down and waited, waited as Xisuma closed the distance, as he climbed the stairs and vanished from sight. Zloy waited until he heard the witch’s voice, it was then he moved from his hiding spot and unfurled his wings. He waited until Xisuma let out a bout of booming laughter to snap his wings down, propelling himself into the air. It took extra force with the holes in his wings but the sound was covered and quickly enough he had hold of the windowsill.

Quietly he stepped inside, glancing at the doorway where the witch stood. She was holding her cat this time, he could see it’s tail swaying from where it draped over her arm. With a near silent breath he turned his attention to searching through the barrels on the wall. Quickly he passed over food stores and potion stuffs, keeping an ear on Xisuma’s conversation with Alusru. Next he opened the chest beside the cauldron and had to stifle a gasp. He was practically blinded by the glow of the contents inside.

“Really, I don’t think I need any.” Alusru said and Zloy tensed, glancing back, she sounded like she was getting irritated with Xisuma’s banter.

Quickly he glanced back to the chest, panic rising in his heart as he tried to figure out  _ how _ to tell which bottle held Pixl’s soul and if his voice was also separate. The soul though, that was the most important. Quickly he cast his gaze back and forth over the dozens… no, scores of bottles and it drew a deep well of dread inside him. No one would gather this many souls unless they had very nefarious intentions.

“I think I’ve wasted enough time on you today, if you know what is good for you then you’ll leave now.” Alusru said and Zloy heard the door close in time with his blood going cold.

Time was up.

He turned, meeting the cold, unamused gaze of the witch.

“Ah, I see. It makes sense now. So you’ve come to go back on your lover’s deal have you? Rather ungrateful don’t you think?” She asked, her tone low and threatening.

“You took his  _ soul _ , what choice do I have?” He snapped back, shuffling closer to the chest.

“I can take your life as easily as I gave it. Then what will this have accomplished? Nothing.” He turned away from her, looking back into the chest desperately… and she started  **chanting** .

He felt his strength waver for just a moment, he felt a pulling at his body, a level of separation beginning to form, like he was being torn apart. He felt as though he was going to drift right back into the void of darkness when suddenly that soulless look in Pixl’s eyes crossed his mind and he snapped to attention. The glow from the chest was almost overwhelming, the chanting drowning away any other sound and he actively fought against the spell’s pull. Reaching out he grabbed hold of the chest, slamming it closed before taking it by its sides and lifting it.

The chant stopped suddenly as Alusru screeched something else instead but Zloy didn’t hear what, his mind settled on one thing, one certainty, that all these souls were trapped against their will and he’d be damned if she kept them. He may have failed as a leader, he may have failed his people, hell some of these souls probably  _ were _ his people, but he wasn’t failing here. He may lose his life a second time but he didn’t care, he was going to do the  _ right _ thing this time, he was going to stop whatever horrible plan she had set for these souls if it was the last thing he did.

Down.

Down hard the chest went as he smashed it into splinters on the floor and shattered all the bottles within. For just the briefest of seconds there was a stillness before light flooded out from the chest and bottle remains. It was blinding, a deafening roar, but somewhere in it he felt Pixl’s presence before everything went… dark.

Still.

Silent…

He wasn’t afraid though.

He wasn’t worried.

If anything he felt like this time…

This time his efforts had been worthwhile.

He thought again of that little insect bouncing against lantern glass.

Perhaps everything was insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

But then again… perhaps there was no grand scheme.

Perhaps it was all just…

A tapestry of little things.

In a tapestry of little things…

_ Every last thing mattered. _

Every…

Last…

…

….

……

\--

Gently Pixl caressed Zloy’s sleeping face.

Sleeping.

Pixl was firm in the belief that’s all it was, sure he wasn’t breathing but Zloy was a Zombie, that had to be normal. Besides, Xisuma seemed confident that Zloy would wake soon, it had only been a couple of days. Pixl snuggled closer, ignoring the light trails of sunlight seeping in through cracks in the dirt roof of the little hovel he’d thrown together. He hoped Zloy would be alright with the decision to come with Xisuma to the lands he was leader of… it had seemed the best choice. The option to escape all the enemies they’d ever made.

Ever so gingerly, Pixl placed a kiss on Zloy’s temple, leaning back again to look at his sleeping lover’s peaceful face. He snuggled just a bit closer, wrapping his arms around Zloy and just waiting. For all the hell they’d been through, for all the snide looks, for all the stressed tears, for all longing looks. It was peaceful now.

Even sleeping… even… worse… Pixl had never seen Zloy’s expression so relaxed but then something changed and Pixl lifted his head, studying those features so handsome for any sign of movement. He swore he’d seen something…

Then…

Finally.

Zloy opened his eyes, blinking sleepily, dazed.

Pixl didn’t have words for the flood of relief that washed through his entire being, but perhaps the tears welling in his eyes spoke for him. Perhaps the anabated smile he couldn’t have kept from his lips if he’d even wanted to.

“Zloy…” Pixl’s voice cracked from the depth of emotion that threatened to overflow from his heart. Dazed turned to confusion, then worry, then relief in Zloy’s eyes before he moved, reaching up to wipe away Pixl’s tears. Wiping them away like he’d been unable to when he was cold and motionless in Pixl’s arms just days before.

“Pixl…” Zloy breathed, the relief in his tone palpable. Before either of them could say another word Zloy threaded his fingers through Pixl’s hair and pulled him down, Pixl following without an ounce of resistance, all but shivering the moment their lips touched. It was like a shockwave that tingled and crackled over his skin in the best way, his heart practically singing with how right everything was in just that little act. In that moment there was absolutely nowhere else Pixl would rather be, absolutely nowhere in the world, in any world, he would want more than this.

Zloy tilted his head and Pixl all but sank into the motion, deepening the kiss with a soft moan. Gently he ran his fingers down Zloy’s arm, gently gracing them over his lover’s shoulder and drawing a pleased groan from him. Zloy’s Grip in Pixl’s hair tightened a bit, his free arm and then his wings wrapping tightly around Pixl, as if trying to pull him desperately close. Pixl felt himself practically melting into the embrace, more than pleased to oblige. His lips chasing Zloy’s in a lover’s dance that set his very soul alight with passion.

A wing shifted, a hand moved and suddenly Pixl was the one laying flat on the bed, Zloy pinning him down. Their kiss grew in passion and intensity, Pixl’s heart racing as much as it was flying. The entire world drifted away in an instant, there was nothing but the two of them, nothing weighing in on them, nothing pulling at the edges of Pixl’s mind, no trouble waiting in the shadows. No, it was just them and nothing else and Pixl would have it no other way. Then, what felt all too soon, Zloy pulled away, leaving Pixl to whine breathlessly and only then did he realize how much his lungs were burning. Zloy chuckled and Pixl gasped for air, finding it immensely unfair that his lover didn’t need to breathe.

“I love you.” Zloy said, his voice warm and deep, Pixl feeling like he’d melt all over again.

“I love you too.” Pixl managed to say back, still somewhat breathless but he meant it. There was nothing in any world that could make him happier than to see Zloy like this. Zombiesim or not, it didn’t matter, Zloy was alive, he was here, and he finally had the chance to be himself, even if he didn’t know that yet.

“So… where are we?” Zloy asked and it felt like such a strange question coming from him, but it was a fair one. With those beautiful but unwanted marks of gold on his wings gone, Zloy had lost his leader abilities.

“Home… I think.” Pixl offered quietly and Zloy gave him a perplexed look.

“Home?”

“Xisuma’s lands… a whole new realm seemed like the best plan, after everything that’s happened… I think we’re safest here.” Pixl offered and Zloy blinked in surprise before relaxing.

“I see… that makes sense.” He said softly.

“The others will probably be glad to know you’re awake…” Pixl said thoughtfully, remembering the worried faces he’d met when he’d carried Zloy through Xisuma’s portal.

“Others… are you so sure they care?” Zloy asked, uncertainty creeping into his tone.

“How about we go meet them and you can judge for yourself?” Pixl offered softly, reaching up to caress Zloy’s hand, his heart doing a little flip at the way Zloy leaned into his touch.

“Alright…” Zloy sighed, leaning down to steal one more kiss before moving to stand, reaching a hand out to Pixl once he had. Pixl took the offered hand, letting Zloy pull him to his feet and wrapping his arms around Zloy’s arm once up.

Together they made their way to the door, the door that Zloy shoved aside with what seemed like trepidation and Pixl gave Zloy’s hand a reassuring squeeze. They stepped out into the sunlight only to see that they had guests already waiting. Xisuma was there, saying something about letting them have some time. Pixl smiled, realizing that Xisuma must have noticed Zloy wake and had likely told the others. Pixl had briefly met the others, so he at least knew their names.

False sat on a stack of stones near Xisuma and Mumbo was off looking out over the horizon, close by but clearly being respectful. Scar and Cub were the ones Xisuma was talking to. Cub being the first to notice them and it was clear from the look in his eyes he had something up his sleeve. That worried Pixl a little, he wasn’t sure how Zloy would take something like that so soon. That worry was quickly placed aside though as Xisuma also turned and introductions followed. Zloy seemed to relax as he met the others though Pixl noticed a keen eye being kept on Cub.

Eventually though, the hermit approached them, a casual smile but a sharp look in his eyes. Zloy was tense but surprisingly, he relaxed on hearing what Cub had to say.

“Have you boys ever thought about getting into radio? You’ve got the voices for it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't expect this to be the next installment of the Multi Wings au but here we are, as a matter of fact the next main installment is in the works but.... this hit me over the head so here we are.


End file.
